Underglass
by Elizabeth Aera DeNoire
Summary: Somehow, Miss Moore always thought that it was possible she would end up here. Not trapped in the waters beneath a cursed well, but trapped in her own regrets. Characters: Hester Asa Moore/Sarah Rees-Toome.


_Is this what it's going to be like?_

_Floating here. Floating here forever? The ice is cold to the touch, it chills my flesh. My hands are rid of any color, barely a tinge of pink remains. Somehow I know this, although I haven't opened my eyes yet. Not since Mary's daughter sealed the well. Not since then._

_I hear voices sometimes. Voices of the realms. They speak to me, as they did once. Once, when I was young, and I still had Mary with me. Or should I say, Virgina. She'll never be Virgina to me, though. She will forever be Mary Dowd, a scared school girl too afraid to fight for power, to fight for the choices she thought she had._

_My senses wander from the cold to the quiet. There is nothing to hear. If I could find the strength to speak, I would begin reciting poetry, books, epics, stories, anything to keep myself sane. I no longer wish to listen to the murmers of the realms' creatures. No more listening to the whispers of magic, or conspirices, or the sounds of change. Sometimes all I hear is water, slowing circulating, and sometimes it is the crackling of ice._

_I can breathe somehow. I thought that as I fell, I would die. I would die as I thought I would once. As I should have. As Mary has. But no, I live. And I breathe in the water of my entombing cage._

_Gemma. The girl I fear I grew to care for. Her spirit, her spunk. Her pale skin. Her red-gold hair. Her glass green, upturned eyes._

_Perhaps if I had not been dismissed from Spence, I could have been with her longer. Heard her stories, and had grown closer to her, learned of her. Perhaps we could have truly been friends. __I knew who she was the moment I saw her. But not at Spence. I saw her for the first time on the streets of India, with a monkey._

_Damn Mary for betraying me as she did. She was kind enough to send me a letter, asking for me to come. I, of course, was surprised. Mary, now donning the name Virgina, sent for me, calling me Sarah, as I had once been called. And, of course, I followed. I came to her, even when I did not know fully what I was doing. Soon as I came, soon as I came looking, the Rakshana were about, after me. They must have seen me somewhere, for as I walked, I could feel them trailing me, watching me. I ended up on a street corner, and for a moment, saw the girl, who I would know as Gemma, standing with her servant and mother before a monkey._

_They are quarreling, I had come to realize. They were talking about a trip, a return. She wanted to go to London. I would normally have been pleased that Mary was a mother, blessed with the good fortune to have such a lovely daughter, but no. Anger had built up in me, and I am suddenly furious. I could feel the Rakshana growing closer, so quickly, I slipped into a shop unnoticed, hopefully. She, my dear sister Mary had given me up._

_My heart had been broken somehow, and I watched as a man, one that I recognized as the Rakshana that had been trailing me, speaks to Mary. Warns her._

_I remember my eyes flashing with rage, and soon, Mary was beginning to send her daughter off, before the daughter ran off on her own, angry, resentful, just as I had been._

_I block out the rest of it. The suicide of the woman that I still think of as my best friend. The murder, in my mind. And I can't help but remember that it was in a blind rage that I... I inspired my best friend, my sister's death._

_So here I am, lying less than peacefully under the water of a cursed well. This is what I deserve, is it not? It is cold, and I am reminded once more of the chilling winters of Spence. My head is rushing, but nothing is there to soothe. All I am able to see is the blackness of my eyelids, as I am still unable to move. _

_With a shock of fear, I feel as if I'm being watched. My hair, my dark hair floats around me, and I try to listen. The icy water creates a barriar, perhaps ice itself, and I can feel the deathly cold as I have never felt before._

_"You're dead", I can hear. It is Gemma's frightened voice, heavy with fear and doubt. "I killed you," she says, afraid._

_And suddenly, I feel the strength to open my eyes, my mouth. I find my voice, and it comes out courser and darker than what I intend. "You're wrong, Gemma. I live."_

_The moment is gone. I am floating alone again, eyes slowly closing out the light, voice lost again to the silence. I wish only to speak and keep myself entertained, but I am not worthy of such luxaries I find. I am to be doomed forever, I suppose, living through my sins and misdeeds, wondering what would have been if I had chosen differently. There is no going back, only moving forward, however here I am, with no where to move forward to._

_Only death. And hell. And maybe, perhaps, a glimpse of Gemma once more, or even my lovely Mary. I am lost in a sea of sadness, a sea of loss, a sea of endless bitterness. Mary, for that is what Mary means. I am lost in my regrets to everyone, but mostly, to my only true friend, sister, and family. I need not God's forgiveness, I need only yours._

_Hester Asa Moore, formally Sarah Rees-Toome_


End file.
